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ADDRESS 




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DKUVBRBD hX TUB 



UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA, 



THE SOCIETY OF THE ALUMNI, 



OR THB OCCASION OF THBIE 



ANNUAL CELEBRATION, DECEMBER 10th, 1856, 



THE HON. GEORGE 'SHARSWOOD, LLD. 







PHILADELPHIA: 
KING A BAIRD, PRINTERS, No. 9 SANSOM STREET. 

18 5 7. 

,7'' it 




ADDRESS 



DEUVEUED AT THE 



UNIYERSITY OF PENNSYLYANIA, 



THE SOCIETY OF THE ALUMNI, 



ON THE OCCASION OF THKIR 



ANNUAL CELEBRATION, DECEMBP^R lOtli, ls5fi, 






i' 



THE HON. GEORGE SHAKSWOOD, LL.D. 






PHILADELPHIA: 

KING & BAIRD, PRINTERS, No. 9 SANSOM STREET. 

1857. 



CORRESPOKDENCE. 

Pluladelplda, December 19, 1850. 
Hon. George Sharswood, 
Dear Sir : 
The Undersigned, a Coniniittee of the Board of Managers of the 
Society of the Alumni of the University of Pennsylvania, in behalf of 
the said Society, take great pleasure in requesting of you a copy of the 
excellent address, delivered by you on the occasion of the late Anni- 
versary of the said Society, for publication. 

Yours very respectfully, 

Vincent L. Bradford, 
H. D. (treoory, 
John M. Collins, 
(t. Herman Rorinett, 
Wm. RoTrH Wister. 



PhUadelpliia, March 9, 1857. 
Gentlemen: 

I consider the Address delivered before the Society of the Alumni as 
their property, and accordingly send you herewith the copy. 

Allow me to return you my thanks for the complimentary manner in 
which you have communicated this request. 

Very truly yours, 

Geo. Sharswood. 

To Messrs. Vincent L. Bradford, H. D. Gregory, John M.Collins, 
G. Herman Rorinett, W. Rotch "Wister, Committee. 



ADDRESS. 

An anniversary celebration of the foundation of a 
college or university is an homage publicly paid to 
Learning. It has moreover other high and useful 
ends. The Alumni come together from the business 
and conflicts of active life, to bear an earnest and 
solemn testimony to their younger brethren, who have 
succeeded them, to the incalculable benefits derived 
from a collegiate education. They come to warn 
them that these are the golden hours of their lives 
— that here are to be formed the habits of study and 
principles of conduct, which make or mar the man. 
They come to urge upon them, by the most impres- 
sive of all appeals — that which is the voice of per- 
sonal experience — not to slight the opportunities, 
which are here presented to them, by the diligent 
use of which they will be able to make the best 
preparation for a life, useful to those who, in the 
order of Providence, may be dependent upon them, 
to their country and to their fellow-men. 

Nor is this all. They come to commune with 
the past — to revive the recollections of men and 
scenes, the retrospect of which softens and improves 
the heart — to brighten the chains of early friend- 



6 ADDRESS. 

ship, the links of which contract rust by time and 
separation — and to offer an annual tribute, however 
humble, to the cause of sound education. 

To the individual who addresses you, the memo- 
ries of his college course are among the most de- 
lightful of his life. It would be a pleasure to him 
to recall and dwell upon the characters of his college 
friends and companions, to trace their history and 
fortunes, and point with pride to many who have 
lived to gain distinction in various walks of use- 
fulness. As to some, indeed, it would only be to 
weave a chaplet for their tombs. " After life's fitful 
fever, they sleep well" — to them as indeed to the 
longest liver, a short, uneasy paroxysm, and then — 
the calm repose of death. But he feels that such a 
record would be out of place, presented to those 
who have not the same associations to invest it with 
interest. 

Of the venerated and beloved men, who formed 
at that time the faculty of Arts, he has a right to 
speak with more freedom. He addresses many, who 
enjoyed the benefit of their example and instruc- 
tions. Their lives and characters form a part of 
the history of this University. The grave has now 
closed over them all, and consecrated the memory 
of their virtues in the hearts of their pupils and 
friends. 

James G. Thomson, the Professor of Laupuag-es, 
was born in the year 1777, at Newark, in Delaware, 



ADDRESS. 7 

where his father, William Thomson, was the prin- 
cipal of an academy long distinguished for the men 
of eminence, whom it had trained and sent forth, 
prior to the American Revolution, and which has 
since expanded into a college. Here he received 
the rudiments of his education under the parental 
eye. In the year 1794, William Thomson was 
elected to and accepted the post of Professor of the 
Languages and Principal of the Grammar School of 
Dickinson College, at Carlisle, The first incum- 
hent of that chair was James Ross, who occupied it 
from the organization of the college, in 1784, until 
1792. After retiring from it, and during the va- 
cancy which succeeded, Mr. Ross was engaged as a 
private teacher at Carlisle. The advent of Mr. 
Thomson to that place was the signal for the re- 
moval of Mr. Ross; and it is related that when 
asked the reason of his change of residence, he re- 
marked that he " had to contend with boy teachers 
previously, but now that a man teacher had come, 
there was no room for him." Mr. Ross Avas long 
a resident of this city, and justly eminent among 
its classical teachers. He was the author of a Latin 
Grammar of note, an Accidence, and some other 
school books. Here he died at an advanced age ; 
and his remains were, at a subsequent period, re- 
moved to Carlisle, where they now repose near the 
dust of Nisbet, the first President of Dickinson. In 
1804, William Thomson was called to the chair of 



8 ADDRESS. 

Humanity in the College of New Jersey, at Prince- 
ton ; but his son, the subject of the present notice, 
graduated at Dickinson, while his father remained 
there, in the year 1797. Among his fellow col- 
legiates, though not in the same class, was the pre- 
sent venerated Chief Justice of the United States, 
one of the most distinguished foster-sons of that 
institution.* In the following year, at the age of 
twenty-one, young Thomson came to Philadelphia, 
literally to seek his fortune ; for he used to relate 
himself, that when he crossed Market Street Bridge, 
all he possessed in the world was a trunk of clothes and 
five dollars in money. He brought with him, how- 
ever, a letter of introduction from Dr. Nesbit to Mr. 
James Davidson, then Professor of Languages in this 
University, and at the same time Principal of the 
Grammar School, whose daughter he subsequently 
married. Throuo-h Mr. Davidson's influence he was 
engaged as assistant in the Grammar School, from 
which situation he was soon transferred to the post 
of Principal of the Friends' Academy in this city. 
The duties of that place he continued to fulfil with 
growing reputation, until, in 1806, upon the resig- 
nation of Mr. Davidson, he was appointed his suc- 
cessor in the chair of this University. Here he 
remained until 1828; and from that period, until 

* Now in the class of 1809, on the roll of our honored sister, to the 
name of Jacobus Buchanan, will soon be added Rerunipublicarum 
foederatarum Praeses: the first President of the United States from the 
old Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, but not, we may hope, the last. 



ADDRESS. 9 

his death, in 1849, lie devoted himself entirely to 
practical farming, for which he had all his life mani- 
fested a gTcat partiality. 

Professor Thomson had been trained in an excel- 
lent school. His father was a Scotchman, as were 
also Dr. Nisbet and Mr. Davidson, by whose ex- 
ample and precepts his habits and principles as an 
instructor were formed. He most carefully insisted 
upon an accurate knowledge of the grammatical 
structure of the languages, while, at the same time, 
he did not neglect in his prelections to lead the 
mind of the student to a discernment and relish of 
the beauties of the chaste models of poetry, history 
and eloquence, which, in turn, became the text 
books of his recitation-room. Beyond question, it 
is in the slow, patient and constant exercise of the 
power of discrimination in analysis — in the conse- 
quent improvement of the most important of the 
mental faculties, the judgment — and in the forma- 
tion of habits of concentrated and steady attention, 
that classical studies are most useful to the youthful 
intellect. While the memory is not over-burdened, 
every lesson tends to the gradual developement of 
the intellectual strength. It is true, that atten- 
tion to grammatical and prosodical niceties may be 
carried to excess. This seems to be the rage at 
present in the literary institutions of England. But 
the other extreme is also to be equally avoided. 
Hence, it is not good policy to run over in a cursory 



10 ADDRESS. 

manner a large number of different authors. It is 
not the way to make either an accurate or a ready 
scholar, nor to form a true taste. The maxim, 
multmn sed non nmlia, applies with peculiar force ; 
and such was the leading feature in Professor Thom- 
son's course. The recitation was short, but he ex- 
acted a perfect knowledge of it in every student. 
Pages could not express a higher eulogium upon 
him as a teacher of the true old stamp. 

Professor Thomson's notions of discipline were 
rigid. Within the college walls his manner was 
stern and distant; beyond them, it was kind and 
genial. It may be truly said of him, that 

If severe in aught, 
The love he bore to learning was in fault. 

No portrait or even outline of his personal appear- 
ance, that I am aware of, remains ; but no one, who 
ever saw him, can fail to recall his strongly marked 
and prominent features, his erect posture, and the 
almost military precision of his gait. 

Eobert M. Patterson, M. D., the Vice Provost, and 
Professor of Mathematics and Natural Philosophv, 
was a man whose name and fame are so familiar to 
all who hear me, that it is unnecessary to attempt 
on this occasion any general sketch of his life. It 
has already been done, and presented to the public 
from the pens of those who, from long intimacy. 



A D D K E S S. 11 

were best able to perform the task.* Dr. Patterson 
was the son of a former Professor of Mathematics, 
Avho illustrated this University, and the country of 
his adoption, by liig-h scientific attainments, and by 
a public life of varied and active usefulness. His 
no less distinguished son followed so closely in his 
steps, occupying- the same honorable and responsible 
offices of Professor, Director of the Mint of tlie 
United States, and President of the American Phi- 
losophical Society, that their lives seem to present 
a most remarkable parallel. Dr. Patterson was an 
inmate of the University from his earliest years ; his 
father having had his dwelling in a part of that old 
and capacious structure, which formerly stood on 
this spot, and which was erected at the expense of 
the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, for the resi- 
dence of the Chief Magistrate of the Union, when 
it was hoped that Philadelphia might permanently 
be established as the Federal City. He graduated 
liere, in 1804, after having passed through the 
Grammar School and the Department of Arts, and 
some years later received his diploma as Doctor of 
Medicine from our Medical School. Thus his entire 
training was within our pomoeria ; he was emphati- 
cally a child of this Institution. His reputation 

* I refer particularly to '• A Short Biography of Robert M. Patterson, 
M. D., by Samuel Breck, President of the Pennsylvania Institution for 
the Instruction of the Blind," and "An Obituary Notice of Dr. Patter- 
son, read before the American Philosophical Society, by the Hon. John 
K. Kane." 



12 ADDRESS. 

belongs to us ; and it is such as well to be a source 
of just pride to all who have a share in the honors 
of our Alma Mater. 

He was Professor from 1812 to 1828; and it is 
in that capacity we are now to consider him. Al- 
though it may have the appearance of exaggera- 
tion, yet, in truth, it is scarcely such to say that he 
was the idol of the college. It may well be doubted 
whether there ever was in any institution of learning 
a more popular Professor. With a high order of 
intellect, an enthusiastic fondness for the studies of 
the chair he filled, and most attractive qualities as 
a lecturer and experimenter, he united, at the same 
time, urbanity of manners with strictness of discip- 
line. He thus secured, that which it is difficult to 
gain at the same time, the attachment^ confidence 
and respect of the young men, who formed his 
classes. In his recitation-room the wildest and most 
unruly spirits were under willing restraint. A sad 
but gentle look from him, evincing his displeasure, 
was the most severe and efl^'ectual rebuke. Indeed, 
he rarely had occasion to administer any other. He 
could have commanded the ready services of every 
youth in the college for whatever he asked. It is 
an uncommon quality — such a power over the wills 
of others, especially when exerted successfully on 
the buoyant and inconsiderate spirits of the young. 
No small part of that influence, in the case of Dr. 
Patterson, is undoubtedlv to be attributed to the 



A ]) DRESS. 1 3 

natural blending of dignity and ease in all his in- 
tercourse with those around him. The students 
were treated with all the politeness and respect due 
to those who had fully attained to manhood. It 
was a marked illustration of how much manners 
contribute to the character and position which men 
attain and enjoy. That true politeness, which does 
not consist mainly in the graces of the person, but 
is the natural expression of a heart-felt desire that 
those with whom we converse, should be pleased 
and happy, is a powerful magnet, which never fails 
to draw friends and admirers. It may be termed 
the minor morals ; but it springs from the greater 
morals — the power of self-control — a proper, and, 
therefore, an humbling sense of one's own defici- 
encies. He who really thinks more of what he is 
not, and what he might and ought to be, than of 
what he is, can hardly fail to possess good manners, 
though he may be ignorant of the rules of artificial 
etiquette, and be wanting in the polish which in- 
tercourse with refined society gives ; things not to 
be despised, indeed, but not equal in value to the 
former. Freshmen and sophomores are hardly upon 
the dividing line, between boyhood and manhood; 
juniors and seniors flatter themselves that they have 
passed it. The more jealous are the younger classes; 
and there is nothing so grateful to human nature as 
a concession upon those points of which we feel not 
quite sure. A professor's position with the student, 



1-i ADD R ESS. 

depends more upon his first two, than his last two 
years. It is during that time, if ever, he has to 
gain his respect and confidence. 

Dr. Patterson had a very active, vigorous mind. 
It was plain to all who attended his lectures and 
recitations, that he was himself constantly making 
progress. He communicated his instructions more 
in the spirit of an inquirer himself, than in the 
dogmatic ex cathedra style of one who knew all that 
was to be known. He watched with evident in- 
terest the progress of each student ; and it was his 
great aim to excite an interest in the exercises of 
his class-room, by pointing out and illustrating their 
practical bearing upon the arts and business of life. 

The Rev. Frederic Beasley, D.D., the Provost 
and Professor of Belles Lettres and Moral Philoso- 
phy, was a divine of the Protestant Episcopal Church. 
His birth place and early home was Edenton, North 
Carolina. He graduated at the College of New 
Jersey, while that institution was under the presi- 
dency of the Pev. Dr. Samuel Stanhope Smith, one 
of the most distinguished men in his profession, 
which this country has ever produced. Dr. Smith's 
Lectures on Moral and Political Philosophy, on the 
Evidences of Christianity, his Essay on the Causes of 
the Variety of the Complexion and Figure in the 
Human Species, and two volumes of Sermons, are 
still regarded by scholars as monuments of a culti- 
vated taste, sound learning and genuine piety. It 



A n D 11 ESS. 15 

may be observed in passing, that Dr. Smitli's Moral 
and Political Philosophy, was the text book on that 
snbject used during Dr. Beasley's incumbency of 
the chair in this University. A sounder or better 
book for the purpose, in my judgment, has yet to 
appear. It repudiates the Utilitarian tlieor)-, and 
insists that there is an essential distinction between 
right and wrong, not dependent upon the will of 
any being, but founded in the nature of things, and 
growing out of the necessary moral relations of the 
rational creation. " Although I rejecl," says he, 
" the abstract principle, that the excellence of virtiie 
consists in its conformity to the will of the Creator, 
or that His will alone cou-stitutes its excellence ; yet, 
wherever His will is clearly indicated, whether in 
the structure of the universe, and the order of Pro- 
vidence, or in the constitution of our own nature, 
and the relations which He has established between 
us and other beings, it must, from His infinite wis- 
dom and goodness, be the surest rule of duty to us." 
The student of that book will have no difficulty in 
recognizing, that the Bible, as the revealed will of 
God, was received by Dr. Smith, as the surest evi- 
dence of what was right and wrong, and that hc^ 
submitted his reason implicitly to its teachings on 
all such topics. In this respect it differs materially 
from some late works of wide reputation and recep- 
tion, which, professing, indeed, to be systems of 
ethics, founded upon Christianity, are found, when ex- 



16 ADDRESS. 

timinecl, to be really systems of Christianity founded 
on or tortured into conformity to the authors' theories 
on morals. 

As his college mates, Dr. Beasley was associated 
with Bishop Hobart, with Gaston, Mercer, and the 
eloquent and lamented KoUock, "equally," to use 
his own words, " the ornaments of the bar, the 
pulpit, and the deliberative councils of the nation." 
He survived all these early friends, with whom he 
continued to correspond as long as they lived ; and 
it is an affecting incident that, in his last illness, 
he A'vas observed, during the hours of slumber, to 
repeat the name of Hobart, as though his mind re- 
verted, most naturally and delightfully, to the scenes 
and associations of his college years. Soon after 
receiving his first degree, he was elected to a tutor- 
ship in the college. He was ordained a deacon in 
1801, and took charge of a parish at Elizabeth town. 
New Jersey. In 1803, he removed to St. Peter's 
Church, Albany, and subsequently became co-rector 
with the Rev. Dr. Ben, of Christ Church, in Balti- 
more. From this post he was called to the Provost- 
ship of this University, in 1815, in which he con- 
tinued until 1828. He was then elected the rector 
of St. Michael's Church, Trenton. From this place, 
in 1836, he removed to Elizabethtown, and, under 
the pressure of age and the bodily infirmities of a 
constitution, which was never strong, sought quiet 
and retirement on the spot where he had begun his 



A I) I) K E S S. 17 

professional career; and where he had formed that 
domestic relation which was nearest his heart, and 
formed the solace of his life. Here in sweet serenity, 
from the enjoyment of a good hope, he peacefnlly 
fell asleep, November 1, 1845. 

Dr. Beasley was an accomplished scholar. His 
learning as a divine was evinced by several able 
controversial treatises, and his taste in criticism by 
contributions to the periodical literature of the day.* 
To Mental Philosophy, however, he especially de- 
voted his attention, and in 1822, gave to the world 
as the matured result of his studies, a volume en- 
titled, "A Search of Truth in the Science of the 
Human Mind." The principal aim and scope of this 
w^ork, Avas to vindicate INlr. liOcke from the charge 

* An article from his pen in ihe first inHnl)er of the American (Jnar- 
terly Review, ''on the Eulogies of Jefferson and Adams," may be 
referred to as an illustration of his abilities in criticism. " For several 
montiis during his residence in ElizabethtoMn, he was closely occupied 
in ineparing a series of papers relating to the painful controversy, 
which has for several years distracted the Church, with regard to the 
])eculiarities of the Oxford divinity. Believing, as he did, that free 
and full discussion is the great safeguard of truth, and believing, too, 
that essential and dangerous errors were connected with that system, 
he felt himself called upon, as one of the oldest presbyters of the 
Church, to express his opinion njion the important suliject. He 
entered, as he had done in other cases, into a full discussion of the 
points at issue, and with his usual vigor and vivacity. His productions 
upon this subject have been favorably received by many, not only in 
this country but also in England, and they have been particularly 
noticed in the Christian Observer, one of the oldest and best established 
periodicals of the Church in that country, as evincing much ability and 
research upon the topics involved in that controversy." Funeral ser- 
mon by the Kev. Richard Channing Moore, Rector of St. John's 
Church, Elizabethtown, Nov. 4th, 18^5. 



18 ADDRESS. 

of having taught what was then commonly termed 
the Ideal Theory : a theory which rested upon the 
hypothesis that whatever the mind takes notice of in 
perception is an image or representation of outward 
objects — that every object of thought is but an 
impression or idea, a faint copy of some preceding 
impression. Assuming this hypothesis as correct, 
Berkeley, the celebrated Bishop of Cloyne, logically 
and ingeniously deduced the conclusion that we have 
no certain evidence of the existence of an outward 
universe— that indeed we can absolutely know nothing, 
but the fact of the existence of these ideas and 
impressions and of the sensible subject perceiving 
them. Mr. Hume boldly proceeded a step further ; 
and on the same premises built a system of universal 
scepticism, denying all evidence of the existence 
of the mind itself, and affirming that what we call 
such is really nothing but a succession of impres- 
sions and ideas, and that cause and effect are but 
names for an invariable antecedence and sequence, 
any necessary connexion between which we have 
no sufficient grounds to infer. These conclusions 
aroused at the same time Dr. Thomas Reid, the 
founder of the Scottish School of Metaphysics, and 
the celebrated Immanuel Kant, the father of transcen- 
dentalism. They took very different modes of com- 
bating the hypothesis in question; the one by 
appealing to certain fundamental principles of human 
belief, resting on the common sense of mankind : the 



A I) 1) ]{ E S S. 19 

other by an eiFort to prove that there exists know- 
ledge a priori^ not deduced from sensation or reflec- 
tion, but by the criticism of Pure Reason. Kant's 
reasoning, however, tended to a subjective instead of 
an objective idealism. According to him the mind 
imposes its own laws on the material universe. 
Space, time, cause and effect, are not in the universe 
itself, but merely in the mind, and are therefore but 
the forms or categories of knowledge. It was long, 
however, before the writings of the transcendental 
school attracted the attention of philosophers in Eng- 
land or this country. Dr. Beasley contented himself 
with showing, in opposition to Dr. Reid, that Avhile 
Mr. Locke certainly traced the origin of all our 
knowledge to sensation and reflection, he nowhere 
taught that the perceptions of the mind are merely 
ideas, images or representations of outward things; 
but that, on the contrary, while admitting that the 
mode of perception is an unfathomable mystery, he 
held that external objects produce ideas or notions 
of them through the instrumentality of the senses, 
and expressly repudiated the doctrine that we have 
no sufficient evidence of the existence of a material 
universe. 

It is curious to observe that Raid and his followers 
battled only with the hypothesis that the ideas, 
which are the objects of the nnderstanding when 
a man thinks, are things numerically different both 
from the object existing and the snbject perceiving. 



20 ADDRESS. 

They had no conception of the doctrine of the 
modern ideal system, founded upon the principles of 
Kant, in which a representative object is allowed, 
but only as a modification of the mind itself: a 
theory which has landed its author and his followers 
in a refined and imaginative pantheism. " The most 
consistent scheme of idealism," says Sir William 
Hamilton, '■' known in the history of philosophy is 
that of Fichte ; and Fichte's idealism is founded on a 
basis, which excludes that rude hypothesis of ideas, 
on which alone Reid imagined that any doctrine 
of idealism would possibly be established.* 

It may be doubted whether the study of the 
WTiters of the German school, or the more specious 
but equally dangerous positive philosophy now popu- 
lar in France, would have shaken Dr. Beasley's con- 
fidence in the great English metaphysician. At all 
events, the Essay on the Human Understanding con- 
tinued to the last to be his text book in mental 
science ; for he considered that an original work by a 



* M. Cousin has obs^^rved, with as much truth as point, Ze Nihilism, 
d'.vrait tire le\dernier mot de la Critique de la Rai.son pure. It is said that 
Kant's last words on his death bed were " All is dark." The earnest 
student of this voluminous school, and even of Kant hiaiself, will often 
ask himself the question, whether the writers understood themselves. 
They appear like an adventurous diver, who boldly essaying his strength 
and skill in some deep unfathomed pool, suddenly finds himself buried 
head and neck in the mud of the bottom, and in his struggles to extricate 
himself, disturbs the whole current, and makes what was before pellucid, 
dark and troubled. Well has Sir James Mcintosh remarked that the 
mind never impinges upon the limits of human knowledge without 
being made sensible of it by the shock of the rebound. 



ADDRESS. 21 

great thinker is a more suitable institute than any 
mere compend for the use of schools and colleges, 
however well got up according to modern notions. 

Dr. Beasley was of a kind and gentle disposition, 
that erred, if there was error, in too great indulgence 
to the follies and waywardness of youth. It was not 
in his nature to be a disciplinarian. He had studied 
books and studied himself, and he judged of other 
men by his own heart — the worst standard of judg- 
ment, perhaps, which any man good or bad can 
adopt. He was earnest and faithful as a teacher, and 
I believe successful, in inspiring a love for the chaste 
and manly, in preference to the gaudy and meretri- 
cious in writing, and in exciting an admiration for 
all that is honorable and high-minded in moral senti- 
ment and purpose. 

It is a perfectly just observation that the great 
art of instruction lies not so much in communicating 
knowledge, as in teaching young men how to study, 
and exciting them to love to study. The main object 
is to make students. This was the principle upon 
which these men, to whose memory I have been per- 
mitted to pay this humble tribute, acted. They had 
themselves been educated under the old system, and 
were not ambitious of striking out into any new un- 
trodden paths. With them it was a guiding maxim, 
via trita, via tuta. They were emphatically opposed 
to what is commonly termed cramming. They did 
not believe that all the knowledge a young man was 



22 , A D D R E S S. 

ever to acquire, he was to acquire in their lecture 
rooms. They regarded the college as a training 
place, where education is rather to begin than to 
end : where, at all events, self-education is to begin. 

That such ought to be the principles of collegiate 
education, will probably be admitted on all hands : 
yet it is to be feared that the outside pressure of more 
popular institutions is fast driving our colleges to an 
abandonment of this old and tried system. They 
multiply the number of professors and include in 
their curriculum as great a variety of different 
branches of knowledge as can possibly be crowded 
into the term of four years. It may be depended 
upon, however, as a certain truth, paradoxical though 
it seem, that it is a greater error to undertake to 
teach too much than too little. The inevitable ten- 
dency is to confuse, oppress, and weaken, instead of 
strengthenino; and maturinsf the mental faculties. 

Education is not a process by which the memory 
is to be stocked with facts, subjects, and opinions, 
upon the notion that whatever is put there, will 
remain to be brought out on occasion whenever it may 
be needed. The mind is not a cabinet secretary, 
where knowledge, like papers, can be filed away in 
appropriate pigeon-holes : the business of the pro- 
fessor being to supply the materials, and that of the 
pupils to observe and remember, if he can, their 
marks and numbers, so as to know where to find them, 
wlien they are wanted for use. There are courses of 



ADDRESS. 23 

education often gravely propounded, worthy a place 
in the voyage to Laputa — it is to be hoped that the 
practice does not accord with the prospectus. The 
mind is a delicate organism. It takes time to 
expand and grow. Its full maturity is attained only 
by slow and gradual increments. The real question, 
then, is not how far it may possibly be pressed by 
gorging, but what is the kind and quality of that 
nutriment and exercise, which is best adapted to pro- 
mote its vigorous and healthy growth. 

This one question shows how important are the 
functions of those who train the youthful intellect. 
There are, however, other considerations, the sug- 
gestion of which may, perhaps, serve to impress us 
with the responsibility and therefore real honor and 
dignity of that profession, which devotes itself, often 
with remarkable self-denial of other more shining and 
lucrative paths, to the business of instruction. 

As some of the purest pleasures, which are permit- 
ted to the lot of humanity, so some of the most im- 
portant consequences for weal or woe flow from the 
associations of early life. There is a pride in the 
character of those, who have borne to us the relation 
of parents and teachers, against which it is in vain to 
argue, as founded on what we have not accomplished 
ourselves, and forming no part of the true merit, 
which we can claim as our own. It is a just pride ; 
for we have a part in their merit as they have in ours. 
A man is honored in his ancestors as much as he is in 



24- A D D R E S S. 

liis descendants. • We receive and reflect character. 
The influence, which such considerations exert on 
the intellect and heart, in directing the pursuits and 
moulding the principles, can hardly be fully esti- 
mated. It is not merely the force of early indoctrina- 
tion, which has led the majority of mankind to 
adopt certain dogmas, or follow certain rites as most 
approved. Honest, sincere men change the religious 
opinions in which they have been educated, very 
rarely : and when they do, it is the triumph of judg- 
ment over feeling, succeeding a strong, and often a 
long struggle. With the mass, it is the Church of their 
Fathers they choose to worship in, because it is the 
Church of their Fathers. They examine and per- 
suade themselves that they do so with' entire impar- 
tiality : but let them at once frankly acknowledge the 
eloquence of the advocate at the door of their hearts, 
who pleads in favor of that worn path, in which their 
parents and those whom they loved, have trod before 
them. It would be unjust to call this feeling, preju- 
dice. It is a loving faith which gently influences, 
warms and animates — leads, but does not force. It 
adds the beauty of sentiment to the force of reason. 
It fringes the edges of our opinions with skirts of 
golden lustre, as the rays of the setting sun play upon 
the clouds of the horizon. Hence, a new force is 
imparted to motives, which exercise the most general 
and powerful influence upon the opinions and actions 
ot men. They form the great excitements to indus- 



ADDRESS. 25 

try — the spurs of honorable ambition — the allevia- 
tions of self-denial and sacrifice. 
. Philosophise if you can upon the origin of that 
wonderful feeling, implanted in every bosom, of love 
to country. It is an ultimate fact in our constitu- 
tion. It is not to be accounted for by reason, or 
maintained by argument. Dr. Adam Smith has re- 
marked, that " after all that has been said of the 
levity and inconstancy of human nature, it appears 
evidently from experience, that a man is, of all sorts 
of luggage, the most difficult to be transported." 
There are ties, which bind him to the very spot where 
he was born — to the neighborhood where he spent 
his youthful days, and still stronger to the country, 
with whose history and honors he has associated him- 
self. It requires an overruling sense of duty or 
interest, approaching almost to necessity, to induce 
him to break these bonds and adopt permanently the 
name and fortunes of another State. The law has 
recognised this principle of our nature in the well 
established rule that the domicil of birth easily 
reverts. Observe too how remarkably all oiu' feel- 
ings and opinions are modified and moulded by the 
circumstances of our comitry. Pass the narrow 
channel, which separates England from her ancient 
and until lately inveterate foe : how marked the 
difference with which whole communities of men 
look at and judge of the same things, tlie same events, 
the same persons ! All will not be found willing to 



26 ADDRESS. 

admit the justice of the political watch- word, "Our 
Country, right or wrong !" few men are ready to 
acknowledge that their country ever was or is in the 
wrong. 

Let a man, amid the cares and bustle of life, 
revisit for a short season the home of his boyhood. 
He is of a nature not to be envied, if it yields him 
not a pleasure of the purest character. He recalls, 
by association, incidents in early life, mellowed by 
the slow and gentle touches of time, and endeared 
to him by their relation to those whom he loved and 
reverenced. Images are revived, which, though 
faded, have never been lost ; for they were originally 
engraved upon memory's most enduring tablet — the 
heart. It is a merciful constitution that we remem- 
ber best the things and persons we have loved. Est 
autem situm in nobis, ut et adversa quasi perpetua 
oblivione obruamus, et secunda jucunde et suaviter 
meminerimus. 

Is there no final cause of this great general law 
of our active, intellectual, moral nature'? No end 
of a wise and beneficent Providence, in implanting 
so admirable a motive power — so gentle — so con- 
stant, yet so mighty: which performs a part like 
the ebb and flow of the tide, showing only the ad- 
vancing and receding ripples on the ocean's shore — 
yet more powerful in its influences than the wildest 
tempest or tornado, that ever lashed its waves to 
fury, and engulphed whole navies in its depths '? 



ADDRESS. 27 

There is one, perhaps among many others, one 
important final cause of this principle — its bearing 
upon education. In elevates instruction to the most 
important and dignified office in the community, to 
consider the effect of early associations upon the in- 
tellectual and moral character. It would be difficult 
to calculate, with any thing like precision, in any 
particular case, how much of the moulding of opin- 
ions habits and principles is to be traced to tliis 
source. There are facts enough however lying 
upon the surface of human experience to satisfy us 
that, in the aggregate, this principle plays, though 
it may be a slow and insensible, yet a most impor- 
tant part in the A^ork of education. 

Man is an imitative animal. Imitation begins 
with earliest childhood, and continues until mature 
manhood has fully stamped and hardened the im- 
press of the character. Our first imitation is of 
external manners and conduct ; but an inferior mind 
cannot long be in contact with one superior, without, 
from the force of imitation, acquiring something of 
its habits and opinions. The processes of thought 
and feeling have the power of transfusing themselves 
from mind to mind. When we look up with vene- 
ration and love to a man, our confessed superior in 
age and knowledge, we take his opinions upon trust 
— we assimilate our habits of thought, as well as 
manner of expression to his. We often see hoAv 
naturally men fixll into the peculiarities of language 



28 ADDRESS. 

and manners of those with whom they frequently 
converse. The same thmg is observable of habits of 
thought and principles of conduct. It is true of 
mature minds. The strong influence the weak. 
Much more is it true of the youthful mind in con- 
tact with the mature. 

It has been well said, by Bishop Warburton, that 
" was the full definition of man a good philosopher, 
and his only business speculative truth, something 
might be said in favor of preserving his mind a rasa 
tabula, till he was himself able to judge what was 
fit to be written on it. But as he was sent into the 
world to make a good citizen, in the observance of 
all the relations of civil social and domestic life, 
as he was born for practice and not for speculation, I 
should think that virtues so necessary for the dis- 
charge of those relations could not be insinuated 
too soon or impressed too frequently ; even though 
the consequence might happen to be the acquiring 
an obstinate and unconquerable prejudice in favor 
of religion." 

On account of that ultimate fact in the constitu- 
tion of our nature, to which attention has been 
drawn, it will easily be inferred that it is a prac- 
tical impossibility to preserve the mind a rasa tabula. 
Unless the subject be imprisoned in a dungeon, 
where it may be conjectured it would remain forever 
a hopeless blank, things must be written on it — few 
or many— good or bad. If few, the deeper and more 



A D D R E S S. 29 

abiding the gravnre ; if few and bad, the more potent 
for mischief. Et ha?c iyjsa magis pertinaciter h[erent, 
quae deteriora sunt. 

But even if it were possible, through the processes 
of intellectual culture, to preserve the mind, as 
far as moral and religious principles are concerned, 
as a piece of white paper, until the period arrives 
for the subject to form his own, the natural tendency 
of our fallen nature to evil would render it more 
tlian probable that the choice would not then be an 
unbiassed one — would not be the result of a pure, 
uncorrupted exercise of reason. Living up to this 
period without moral and religious checks, without 
the restraint of fear of future retribution, the subject 
of such an experiment would most probably prefer 
to live on in a condition so congenial to the natural 
bent of his inclinations. Our opinions upon abstract 
questions are constantly influenced, and moulded by 
our hopes and wishes. The idea, that men become 
bigots by early religious training, is a bug-bear, 
which experience has stripped of its terrors. Sup- 
pose the result to be a strong attachment to particu- 
lar tenets in fliith — nay, suppose that opinions, early 
inculcated and long cherished, have acquired a 
complete mastery over the mind — it follows not that 
justice and charity may not go hand in hand with 
them. On the contrary, what more dangerous, in 
its practical moral results on life and conduct, than 
indifference to truth, whicli has led to the adoption 



30 ADDRESS. 

of the opinion, that his creed cannot be wrong whose 
life is in the right : a maxim about as sound as 
would be this, that his opinions in architecture can- 
not be wrong who builds good houses, without stop- 
ping to enquire whether he builds according to his 
own principles or those of others. 

The most obvious and at the same time the most 
important difference in the intellectual constitution 
of different men, consists in their mental activity or 
sluggishness. These qualities attach themselves early 
in life, and most generally adhere where they have 
once attached. There are men who, with a holy 
zeal, like that of the Apostle of the Gentiles, through 
a long life, " count not themselves to have attained." 
Every sensible access of reputation and standing, is 
but vantage ground in their progress, from which 
they still reach upward and onward — like Caesar, as 
Lucan describes him ; 

" Sed non in C:esare tantum, 
Nomen erat, nee fama duels : sed neseia virtus 
ytare loco." 

In the formation of such a character, early training 
has much to do. It is unnecessary to take the posi- 
tion, that there is no natural difference in the mental 
powers of different men — that some are not naturally 
more active and vigorous than others. A slight con- 
sideration of the plastic power of habit on the phy- 
sical frame will, by that analogy, which prevails 



ADDRESS. 31 

between the laws of mind and matter, sufficiently 
evince its power over the intellect. Activity of 
mind is as often a habit as a natural gift. A dis- 
tinguished jurist and writer of our country, William 
Wirt, in a letter of advice to a young friend pursuing 
his studies, recommended him, by all means, to seize 
the moment of excited curiosity, upon any subject, 
to investigate it thoroughly. A more important and 
difficult problem remains behind, liow to excite and 
keep alive this curiosity. To be able to solve this 
problem, may be considered as the key to distin- 
guished success in the profession of instruction. Dr. 
lieid playfully expressed the opinion, that there 
ought to be two professors for every chair in the 
University — one for the students of lively parts, and 
another for the dunces. It is not to be doubted, that 
much the ablest professor would be required for the 
class of dunces. It would demand a man of more 
vigorous and active mind to afford any hope of 
success. It is evident, that to understand the secret 
of arousing and keeping alive that curiosity, which 
is so necessary in the training of the youthful intel- 
lect, the instructor must himself possess it in a high 
degree. He must himself be daily making progress, 
if he expects to transfuse such a spirit into his pupils. 
" Philosophy," says Dr. Thomas Brown, " is not the 
mere passive possession of knowledge : it is in a much 
more important respect, the active exercise of ac- 
quiring it. We may truly apply to it what Pascal 



;32 ADDRESS. 

says of the conduct of life in general. " We think," 
says he, " that we are seeking repose^ and all which 
we are seeking is agitation^ 

Nor does the importance of activity rest in the 
acquisition of knowledge, the culture and improve- 
ment of the mental powers. The man of active 
mind will be, in general, the man of active life. To 
be a scholar for the mere sake of the enjoyment it 
affords is but the consecration of a refined selfish- 
ness. Nay, if the end of reputation be regarded, it 
is only a more adorned and meretricious kind of the 
same meanness. Self is so natural a god of the 
human heart, that its idolatry is the most easily 
transfused by imitation. To live in the happiness 
of those around us — in the prosperity of the com- 
munity to which we belong — in the wealth and 
glory of our country — in the advance of knowledge 
virtue and religion in the world, are high ends, 
worthy to be inculcated as well by example as pre- 
cept. It is true, that there is a most intimate con- 
nexion between the active exercise of the social 
virtues and the happiness of the individual. But 
virtue, in its purest truest sense, cannot be where 
self is the supreme end of life. It is not every man, 
who can be a great man ; but to have the qualities 
of true greatness may be within the reach of every 
one. It requires great events, great revolutions, and 
the circumstances of birth and position in the midst 
of them, to attract the world's attention and secure 



A D D II E S G. 33 

a place on the historic page. We have all our 
several parts of life allotted to us. Yet the active 
virtues shine in all of them. They diffuse a gentle 
and happy radiance around our path, and give to life 
the interest of a high and worthy aim. " If I had 
two lives," said Sir William Jones, who accomplished 
so much in so short a life, " I should scarcely find 
time for the due execution of all the public and 
private projects, which I have in mind." 

Much is in the power of the instructor in infusing 
this spirit of activity, in setting a high standard of 
moral and intellectual attainment as the goal before 
his pupils. The seeds of high purposes may be 
planted earlier in life than we are often disposed to 
think. In all the frolic and buoyancy of boyhood, 
there is many a serious thought on the future ; many 
a youth has shed a tear of generous feeling, as 
did the young Thucydides, when he saw the aged 
Herodotus crowned with laurels amid the plaudits of 
assembled Greece. 

These considerations have been presented to 
enforce and illustrate the dignity of the profession of 
instruction. Stress has not been laid so much on 
the imparting of knowledge and the cultivation of 
taste, as on the formation of active habits of thought 
and study, and of sound and elevated principles of 
moral conduct. In these respects mind everywhere 
exerts its influence. Some giant intellect will often 
leave its mark upon the mind of many generations. 



;3 -t ADDRESS. 

Men arise from time, to time, who wield a mighty 
sway over the opinions and actions of their contem- 
poraries. These are, however, but the flutists of the 
columns — the carvers of the capitals and architraves. 
Operum fastigia spectantur, latent fundamenta. 
Those who dig out and lay the broad and massive 
foundation stones — a work that is then covered up 
and hid from sight, but upon which the whole 
superstructure of society rests — are parents and 
teachers. The earnest and conscientious parent 
exerts his power over but few subjects. The narrow- 
ness of his sphere of action is compensated by its 
augmented force and efficiency. Happy indeed is that 
community where the sense of parental responsibility 
for the character and conduct of children is most deeply 
felt. Every institution of Church or State which 
tends to weaken this sense of responsibility is 
perilous in the extreme. Equally dangerous is it 
to impair the sense of obligation of the child to the 
parent for the benefits of his education. Self-denial 
and personal sacrifice on the part of the parent 
naturally heighten this sense of obligation. The 
eft'ects of loosening the bands of this relation may 
not be immediately noticed — the harvest of insubor- 
dination lawlessness and impiety may not be fully 
reaped by society for many generations ; but come it 
will, sooner or later. The most remarkable people 
the world has ever produced have been those who 
have been carefully instructed at the firesides of 



ADDRESS. 35 

their parents — who have listened to words of connsel 
and wisdom, adapted to their years, from Hps, to 
which they have been taught to look up with min- 
gled veneration and love. In a somewhat wider, 
though not so near and therefore not so effective a 
sphere of action is placed the teacher. He is 
temporarily in Joco jparentih — bronglit in sufficiently 
close contact with the impressible mind of youth to 
make his influence of the most potent character. In 
schools or colleges, crowded with hundreds of young 
men, this influence is of course proportionably weak- 
ened. The teacher or professor is at too great a 
distance from the pupils. It may be seriously ques- 
tioned whether such institutions are desirable in a 
country where the addition of private tuition cannot 
generally be afforded. The professor of a college, 
however, under ordinary circumstances, will send out 
from under his instruction, from five hundred to a 
thousand and upwards of young men, fitted by their 
education to fill the highest and most influential places 
in society. From these centres annually go forth the 
youth of our country; and according to the principles 
upon which they have been trained and the ability of 
the instructors, they will either be humble, earnest 
and patient students, or flippant, self-sufficient and 
superficial sciolists; they will be active, working, 
progressing men, or sluggisli drones, or giiy and 
thoughtless triflers: they will be sober, conservative, 
order-loving citizens, or they will set up to be wise 



36 ADDRESS. 

above what is written — ready to join the van of 
every movement, whose end is to agitate, to unsettle 
foundations, and disturb the elements of peaceful 
prosperity and progress. Upon the spirit and char- 
acter of their collegiate course, it may, at least to a 
very large extent, depend whether they are launched 
forth to navigate the tempestuous sea of American 
life, left to frame their own charts, to be carried 
about by every wind of doctrine, or possessed of an 
abiding veneration and confidence in those charts to 
which their fathers looked for safety and direction. 

One of these — the Bible — granted by the merci- 
ful will of the Creator to his erring creatures, as 
the standard of faith and morals, as sure as it is 
the work of Him, who made all things out of nothing 
and can reduce them again to nothing at his will, 
will stand unshaken, as a tall rock in the midst of all 
the surges of human opinion and theories, until that 
mighty angel with his right foot upon the sea and 
his left foot on the earth, shall lift his hand to heaven 
and swear that there shall be time no longer. 

The other — the Constitution — placed in our hands 
by the pure and patriotic men, who laid the founda- 
tion of our Union of Republics, as the safe guide of 
political conduct and principle, is indeed but a hu- 
man work, and we can but hope, even though it be 
against hope, that it may be perpetual. 

It is related that when the members of the Cou- 
vention, which formed the Federal Constitution, were 



ADDRESS. 37 

engaged in signing that memorable instrument in 
Carpenters' Hall in this city, now to our disgrace 
desecrated to the uses of an auction mart, Dr. Frank- 
lin, directing attention to a landscape behind the 
President's chair, observed, that painters had always 
found it difficult to distinguish between the rising 
and setting sun ; that during the sessions of the Con- 
vention, he had often studied that picture, and 
doubted in his own mind, which it was intended to 
represent ; but that now, when the great work for 
which they had met was happily finished, he saw 
plainly that it was indeed a rising sun, and accepted 
it as an auspicious omen of the future. 

May we not be allowed to indulge the hope that 
the sun which then arose upon this highly favoured 
country, and now illuminates, while it warms and 
preserves, not thirteen, but thirty-one confederated 
States, may never go down until the sun in the 
firmament shall become black " as sackcloth of hair," 
and the heavens " depart as a scroll when it is rolled 
together." 



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